


Do Your Worst

by khazadspoon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khazadspoon/pseuds/khazadspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you’ve never..?”</p>
<p>Blackwall paused, almost empty tankard halfway to his lips. “Never what?”</p>
<p>“Fucked a man.”</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon?”<br/>--<br/>The Iron Bull gives Blackwall an offer. He takes it up; a night without strings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Your Worst

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't get the idea out of my head that these two doing the nasty together would be really fun to read. Upon searching there is nothing in the Ao3 tag. So I've amended that.

“So you’ve never..?”

Blackwall paused, almost empty tankard halfway to his lips. “Never what?”

“Fucked a man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The Iron Bull laughed, no doubt at Blackwall’s red cheeks, and pushed a full tankard towards him. “You heard. You’ve never slept with a guy, right?”

“Well no, I haven’t. Is that something else to criticise me on?” He asked with a grumble, finishing his drink and reaching for the one the Bull offered. A drink was a drink, no matter who bought it.

“No, not at all,” the Bull leaned back, taking up at least two chairs with his size, and looked Blackwall up and down. His cheeks grew warmer. It was like being appraised, but not embarrassingly so. It was… enticing. “You’ve at least gotten offers though, am I right? A guy like you; broad, kinda big, the beard and all that. I know a lot of guys who go nuts for that kind of look.”

The question are you one of those guys? was thick on Blackwall’s tongue. The Bull was looking at him again, his keen eye seeking out every detail on Blackwall’s face. Blackwall shrugged and took a long drink from the new tankard. “I suppose. I’ve not really been taking notice.”

The Bull leaned forward, his impressive shoulders twisting as he rested his forearms on the table. “Consider this an offer. Though I’m not exactly a ‘taking it’ kind of guy.”

-

Blackwall did consider it. More than he thought he would, at least. At first it was just something to muse over when there was nothing to do. He was attractive to men? To Bull? It wasn’t exactly a foreign concept, but Blackwall truly hadn’t considered it before.

Then he started taking notice of things. The pretty curve of a man’s back, strong jawlines and lithe men training in the courtyard.

He started to notice Bull, too. The Iron Bull trained in the same clothes he fought in. Shirtless, large trousers, his brace and harness. He didn’t sweat much, Blackwall had observed. He went to watch the Chargers train most days, giving some tips on shield work and rear defence.

The Bull noticed him noticing, of course. He made a show of flexing his muscles, light and shadow emphasizing the sheer size of them… Blackwall was staring and he couldn’t make himself stop.

He couldn’t stop thinking about big hands, broad shoulders, long thick legs…

When he lay in bed at night, nothing but his own hand for company, he thought of the Bull. He thought of being held down and taken. Hand around his cock, fist pressed to his mouth to muffle any sounds as he jerked himself off, he thought of the Bull penning him in and making him cry out.

At first it had almost frightened him. Blackwall wasn’t attracted to men, he knew that. He liked everything about women and only women.

But then…

There was something enticing about what the Bull had offered. Sex, yes, but without any attachment. Qunari didn’t do relationships, he knew that. The Bull was offering a night of debauchery, experimentation that Blackwall could take or leave. And after a week of contemplation he found that he really wanted to.

So, after sundown and once most of the tavern’s patrons had left for their beds, Blackwall approached the Bull.

“All right.”

The Bull looked up at him, empty cup dangling from his fingers. He cracked a smile but stayed seated. “All right. Go upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

And it was as simple as that. Blackwall marched up the stairs with his head held high. He saw Sera’s door was shut, was thankful for that, and saw no sign of Cole. He was thankful for that too.

The Iron Bull’s room was almost empty. They had been in Skyhold for at least two seasons, everyone else had decorated and made themselves at home. The Bull, it seemed, had not. The bed was large, neatly made, the frame covered in notches and cracks. Old. There was a small pile of books near the bed, a brief glance gave Blackwall the impression they weren’t all for the Bull to read. Then there was the large pack near the door filled with the Bull’s possessions.

When the man himself came in he locked the door behind him. The Bull bent with an almost silent groan and lit the fireplace with a practiced set of motions. Firelight started to fill the room, dull heat seeping into the air around them.

“I’d say make yourself comfortable but I don’t think you would,” the Bull said softly, turning and keeping his distance. Blackwall felt a shiver go down his spine; what was he doing here? “Don’t over think it. Or try not to at least. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t ask for verbally. We can take this slow or we can dive right in; it’s up to you.”

Blackwall swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. The fire had lit up the Bull’s sides, shone on his horns, but his front was in silhouette. He looked up at the Qunari’s shadowed face and set his jaw, squared his shoulders.

The Bull stepped forward. Blackwall didn’t step back. A large gnarled hand fell on his shoulder, he could feel it through the padded jacket. The Bull’s hand stroked up to his neck, cupped the base of his skull and just held him there. Blackwall still couldn’t see the Bull’s features, he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. He shivered, a breath leaving his lips as the second hand touched his waist.

“This all right?” The Bull asked lowly, tilting his head and leaning forward. Blackwall nodded. “Good.”

The Bull squeezed his side, leaned forward more, and pressed his mouth to Blackwall’s cheekbone. He lingered slightly, the warmth of his breath making Blackwall shiver again. The lips dragged across the skin for a moment as the Bull moved his lips to Blackwall’s ear.

“Anytime you feel uncomfortable, any moment you want to stop, you say ‘katoh’ and we stop. No questions, no regrets. Understood?” Blackwall nodded. “Good. Now tell me what you want.”

“Pin me.”

He didn’t need to think about it. It had permeated his dreams, his fantasies, for the last week.

The Bull smiled, teeth catching the light, and the beginnings of heated arousal started to form in Blackwall’s gut. Those big hands left his side, left his neck, and reached down. The Bull lifted his hands up and pressed them to the wall. Blackwall felt the small bloom of heat in his stomach grow tenfold, increasing even more when the Bull pushed their hips together. Blackwall couldn’t move, he was pinned.

Blackwall gasped, his throat tight and the world seemed to shrink to that moment, to that room.

“Big, brave Warden,” the Bull growled in his ear, “you wanna get taken down a notch? Thought you’d take on the ‘big bad Qunari’, huh?” The Bull made a low animalistic sound, teeth grazing over the shell of Blackwall’s ear. The warden shivered, body leaning forward into the hard press against it.

There was no denying it. He wanted this. He wanted to feel Bull hold him down, the sheer size and weight of the Qunari driving his lust higher.

“Do your worst,” his voice was steady. He was harder than he could remember being for decades.

The Iron Bull pulled back, hips still keeping Blackwall in place, and grinned. His teeth were sharp, white, and almost scary. “That sounds like an invitation.”

Blackwall smirked and puffed his chest out. “Consider it a challenge.”

-

It occurred to Blackwall that perhaps the Iron Bull had more difficulty with sex than any of them had realised. He was huge; at least a foot taller than Blackwall, nearly twice as wide, things the warden had noticed but never really considered before. But, despite all that, the Bull seemed to have honed his skills to an art form.

He stripped Blackwall’s clothes piece by piece. Every item removed was rewarded with sharp bites and hot kisses over heated skin. One large hand roamed freely as the other pressed Blackwall’s wrists to the hard mattress. It didn’t matter how hard he strained up against that grip, the Bull kept him in place. It was almost heady, that feeling of submission; forced or otherwise.

Blackwall tensed as a wet and slick finger touched him, pressing against his ass. When had he reached away for oil? The Bull’s domineering attitude fell away for a moment as Blackwall tensed. “This all right? We can stop if you want,” he murmured, finger moving back slightly. Blackwall shook his head.

“Do it.”

And then there was pressure, a foreign stretch and sudden fullness he had never felt before. The Bull was careful and attentive. He took his time in opening Blackwall up, finger after finger, nipping and kissing the skin of his thighs and stroking his cock when it started to flag. It made Blackwall’s toes curl.

When had someone last touched him like this? When had anyone made his breath catch and his chest seize? It had been so long he couldn’t remember it ever happening.

Then the Bull was asking him something.

“How do you want it?”

Blackwall paused, uncertainty twisting the pleasure in his gut. He thought about the question. What options were there? On his hands and knees, grasping at the headboard with the Bull behind him? On top of him? No. He wanted to feel the Bull’s weight on him, he wanted to be trapped. “Like this,” he grunted, cock twitching as the Bull rumbled a moan. There was a predatory look on the Bull’s face. Blackwall liked it.

The Bull gripped his calves, dragged him down the bed, holding him open and sending sharp shivers of vulnerability down his spine. Blackwall held his breath as the Bull pushed in slowly, one of the low growls falling from his lips.

There wasn’t any pain, just a dull push, more of that strange fullness that made his toes curl again. A grunt turned into a moan as it left his throat. The air in his lungs seemed to disappear, his chest tightened as pressure gave way to pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel good,” the Bull groaned through his teeth. Blackwall didn’t dare make a sound, afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he let his lips part. It was almost as if the Bull sensed that, one of his hands moving from Blackwall’s calf to his hip, squeezing hard enough to bruise. Blackwall shouted, head thrown back as the pain mixed with the heat in his gut. “That’s it, let it out,” the Bull nearly purred. “Let me hear you. Don’t hold back on me.”

When the Bull moved his hips, shifted back an inch or two, Blackwall made a strangled sound. He had expected pain, humiliation, some kind of dark hatred of himself to come from the act. He hadn’t expected... want. He hadn’t expected to find himself arching his back into those first few slow thrusts, curses starting to form on his tongue.

The Bull moaned and thrust harder, gripping Blackwall’s hips. “Nn, you’ve got a dirty mouth, huh? I like that, fuck yeah I like that.”

He started to move faster, the glide of his cock making Blackwall’s pulse jump and skitter. It was so good. He didn’t know it could be that good. He didn’t-

“Fuck! Sweet Maker, there!” Blackwall’s body went rigid, his eyes clamped shut as lightning seemed to shoot down his spine. The Bull’s hips moved faster as he thrust forward with what couldn’t have even been half his strength. With a low rumble the Bull snapped his hips forward, pushing more of that lightning through Blackwall’s body.

It was maddening. His cock was hard, smearing his stomach with each of the Bull’s powerful thrusts. He grasped the sheets and forced his eyes open. The Bull was staring at him, his one eye focused solely on Blackwall’s open begging expression.

“You like that?” The Bull snapped his hips again, teeth bared and his eye blazing. “Like it when I fuck you hard?” He gripped Blackwall’s calves tighter, claws biting into the skin and drew his legs further apart, bent him almost in half to lean over him and stare him down. “Tell me how much you like it.”

Blackwall balked, his mind going blank for a moment. He was consumed by how small he felt, that he felt trapped in the Bull’s gaze and under his weight.

A sharp pinch to his thigh dragged him from his own mind.

“Still with me?”

He nodded.”

“Good. Now answer me.”

Blackwall swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to speak. “Yes, yes I- fuck yes I like it, please don’t stop,” the words tumbled out, raspy and hoarse.

The Bull moaned, his grin coming back before he leaned down to bite at Blackwall’s shoulder. The sweet mix of pain and pleasure made him cry out again, hands reaching up and back to grab something solid, something to ground himself as his body started to move of it’s own accord.

His hips canted, seeking out more of the blinding heat. He wanted to come, to succumb to the tightening in his gut. The Bull wrapped a hand around his cock, his fist tight and perfect around him.

“C’mon big guy,” the Bull growled into his ear, “come in my hand, come with my cock in your ass, I know you want to.”

And he did.

He arched into the Bull’s touch, breath stuttered in his lungs as he came. A sound ripped from his throat, halfway between a shout and a roar, and the Bull stroked him through it. The Bull made encouraging sounds in his ear, hips still pushing, still thrusting, making Blackwall’s eyes roll back with the intensity of it all.

Then he was pulling out. Blackwall nearly whimpered and begged for him to get back inside but held his tongue. The Bull fisted his own cock, hand smeared with oil and moving so fast it was nearly a blur. It only took a few seconds before he finished, come streaking over Blackwall’s spread thighs and stomach.

“Fuck yeah.”

He sighed heavily, rising from his knees and sitting at the edge of the bed. Blackwall wrestled with his breathing as he tried to get it back under control. A few moments later a damp towel was wiped over him, the Bull’s hands gently moving over his skin. His face came into view a moment later, expression soft and relaxed.

“You all right?” He asked under his breath. Blackwall nodded, cleared his throat, and sat up with a small wince. Discomfort, not pain. That was good. “Yeah, you’ll want to rest for a while. Stay here if you like, I can get you something to eat or drink.”

They didn’t talk after that. Blackwall had expected to feel like something significant had changed within himself. He had expected the event to have changed him somehow.

But, sat in the Iron Bull’s bed with a tankard of water as the Bull took dirty sheets from around him, he felt the same. Nothing had changed. No one would know what had happened unless he chose to tell them. But he wouldn’t.

When he was ready to leave the Bull showed him out with a friendly shoulder pat and a smile. Nothing had changed between them either, it seemed.

That was for the best.

 

 


End file.
